


How Long?

by mhunter10



Series: Geek! Mickey [11]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe, Angst, Asphyxiation, Choking, Confessions, Consensual Kink, Dancer Ian Gallagher, Domestic Fluff, Explicit Sexual Content, Geek Mickey Milkovich, Hiding, Kissing, M/M, Secrets, Sexual Content, gagging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 05:14:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13540425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mhunter10/pseuds/mhunter10
Summary: "How long has this been going on?"Both Ian and Mickey suspect the other of doing something behind each other's backs.





	How Long?

Mickey’s sighs and gasps echoed back at him, undercutting the constant spray and Ian’s grunts from behind him. His wrinkled fingers tried to find purchase on the wet tiles of the shower but they kept slipping. Mickey narrowly missed banging his nose into the wall, but he trusted that Ian wouldn’t let his powerful thrusts get away from him. His vision was blurry with pleasure even without his glasses. The steam had dissipated and the cooling water felt good on his heated skin. He had already shot his load and watched it swirl down the drain, and wasn't sure he'd be able to do it again despite his body trying.

Mickey smiled to himself, thinking back to the day they'd decided, together, to put a bottle of lube in their bathroom. Ian was fucking him so good, and Mickey was glad they'd talked about it. They could talk about anything; tell each other everything. Mickey loved hearing Ian’s stories from the club, and Ian always listened with rapt attention to his less interesting tales. He joked that Ian was the most interesting thing that ever happened to him, and Ian would usually laugh and say something endearing. Ian was surprisingly romantic, although it wouldn't always come off that way to strangers. But Mickey loved him for it.

He let Ian come inside him, clenching his hole around him and mimicking his throat swallowing.

"Fucking hell, Mick," Ian shivered from the sensation more than the cold water. He buried his nose into the wet hair at Mickey’s neck and rubbed his hands all over him. He dipped his fingers between his ass cheeks, washing away the come that escaped and moaning deeply.

"That was nice," Mickey said, turning around and wrapping his arms around Ian's waist. Ian leaned down and caught his lips in a hard kiss, sucking and biting at them and making Mickey’s dick twitch.

"Too bad we can't stay in here forever and get all pruney," Ian teased, stepping out of the shower and taking Mickey’s hand to help him out so he wouldn't fall.

"Most people think that happens to provide more traction, but really it's just our bodies absorbing all the water," Mickey commented as he meticulously dried off. He watched Ian only half dry himself before leaving the bathroom so he followed him after putting on his bath slippers.

"You know everything. How is it you know everything. I give up," Ian huffed, throwing up his hands. He often said this whenever Mickey enlightened him onto some little-known fact or tidbit. He knew how Ian felt about his education and knew the self-deprecating remarks were how he coped. But Ian also thanked him for teaching him new things all the time, praising his brain by giving him amazing head.

"Do you know where my lucky jockstrap is?" Ian asked, searching the drawers they shared.

Mickey looked down at the carpet, focusing on the wet tracks Ian had made. He swallowed and bit his lip, hearing his boyfriend get more frustrated the more he dug through his vast collection. His eyes went wide when Ian suddenly turned to him, expecting an explanation. He cleared his throat and shakily put his glasses on.

"Uh-uh...um, di-did you m-maybe leave them at...at work?"

Ian shook his head and crossed his arms. "You already suggested that, remember? I checked there. Even the lost and found."

Mickey could tell by the way Ian wouldn’t take his eyes off of him that he knew something, or at least suspected. His gaze made Mickey’s face get warm and he pushed his glasses up to avoid looking back at him. He shrugged weakly, trying not to look as guilty as he felt.

Ian sighed, deciding to pull on a different pair before finishing dressing for his shift that night. Mickey watched him, pretending he wasn’t internally freaking out about why Ian was so intent on finding one pair of underwear. It made his mind race through everything else that had been going on lately that had given him pause. He didn’t like to think about his conclusions because he didn't want to admit he was still insecure in their relationship after everything. He pulled on some comfortable house clothes, preparing himself for a quiet evening waiting up for his man as usual, and went over to his bookshelf fully intent on starting something new to get his mind off the bad thoughts. When he felt Ian’s arms curl around him, he sank back against him in a standing cuddle.

"Don't stay up reading, you'll hurt your eyes," Ian said, kissing his cheek and neck and squeezing him slightly in a hug.

"I won't," Mickey promised, wanting to make up for his unknown sins. Ian kissed him on the mouth and left him feeling terrible. There was only one book he liked to read when he felt lower than gravity, so he pulled it off the shelf and hoped the familiar band of Hobbits would cheer him up.

It wasn’t like he'd meant to take them out of malice. He'd seen Ian wear them over a hundred times. They'd become his favorite of many once he realized Ian looked gorgeous in all of them. He would never wear them himself, far too leery of being that exposed in something meant to cover him, despite Ian’s near constant worship of his bottom. No, he'd simply picked them up while Ian was in the shower after a bachelor party, and had yet to give them back. That was weeks ago. And as much as he hated seeing Ian upset over them, he couldn’t bring himself to give them up. He was selfish, but also had been getting paranoid.

Ian was doing well at work. He was getting requested more and taking more shifts. Mickey saw him less and less unless he went to the club. He was happy that so many people enjoyed watching Ian perform, but Ian was his boyfriend and he loved him. And Mickey noticed the crowds loved him when he wore that particular jockstrap under his little shorts that always eventually came flying off. Ian had a big dick and there was no denying it when he wore them. The lights made the white elastic straps glow and would catch the navy blue just right that you could see he was packing nine inches. The cotton would get wet with his sweat and sometimes drinks, and cling to him. Coupled with how good a dancer Ian was and it was gosh darn mesmerizing.

But Mickey didn’t enjoy it so much when someone else would touch them or Ian. On more than one occasion, Mickey watched as another dancer playfully tugged at them, making the fabric snap against Ian’s skin. Of course Ian didn’t mind, used to it, and Mickey knew they were merely friends, but he didn’t like the implications. And then Ian had started acting weird. Sometimes he wouldn’t answer Mickey’s texts, he wouldn’t be home when he got there, and he’d stay out later. He would take calls away from him and change the conversation when Mickey inquired. Ian had snatched his backpack away when he’d gone looking for something he’d asked for, although he apologized. But it had hurt Mickey’s feelings that he didn’t know what was going on. All of it had been made worse by the fact the same dancer from the club spending more time with Ian than Mickey was. Mickey was good at math, but this was one equation he didn’t want to add up. Derrick was nice and had given Mickey a dance only once before he and Ian had got together, but Mickey was hurt and ashamed that he would try to steal Ian away.

It was too much. So, in a fit of irrational jealousy, Mickey hid the underwear so Ian couldn’t wear them and attract any other guys. It was the only thing he could think to do and now he had them for himself. He set his book down and glanced at where they were hidden away. He suddenly needed them in his hand, quickly retrieving them and bringing them back to the bed. He held them to his face, rubbing them against his cheeks. He brought them to cover his mouth and nose, taking in a deep breath and inhaling the smell of dried sweat and the mustiness of Ian’s balls. He whined, imagining Ian in them sitting on his face and smothering him. It was so good. He kept sniffing them until he was in danger of hyperventilating or suffocating, but his hand found his hard dick and squeezed. He knew he should stop. He’d already come on them once already, humping them into the mattress and making the mix of their smells intoxicating, but he didn’t want to mess them up. He should give them back. He wanted to give them back and ask Ian what he was keeping from him.

Mickey, groaned, close to coming from the quick friction of his hand, but was interrupted by a dock at the door. He quickly stuffed the underwear in the pocket of his sweats and went to answer it, fixing his glasses and embarrassing bodily reaction to his fantasies.

“Y-yes? Can I—can I help you?” He asked through the door, not keen on opening it this late at night.

“Wing Wa delivery for Ian Gallagher,” a man said on the other side with a thick Asian dialect. He started to list the items in the double-wrapped plastic bag he was holding, as Mickey opened the door. “You Ian Gallagher? You order?”

“Um, yeah…yes, I’m…he lives here wi-wi-with m-me. How much do I owe you?”

“Already pay,” the man said, pushing the food onto him and showing him the receipts.

“Okay,” Mickey smiled a little, knowing Ian was just thinking ahead for when nothing was open when he got off, but he had gotten Mickey’s favorite vegetable fried rice. The man was still standing there, so he reached into his pocket for a tip, accidentally pulling out Ian’s jockstrap. He immediately flushed bright red, shoving them deep back into his pocket and stammering uselessly. The man’s reaction was mild, being more impatient, but Mickey felt like he could never get his favorite take-out again.

“H-hold on,” he said, grabbing his wallet and pulling out a twenty for his troubles. “Thanks.”

“Goodnight,” was all the main said, as he left.

Mickey closed the door and raked a hand through his hair. He let out a breath of tension, but didn’t miss the way his heart was racing at the idea of someone else knowing just how inappropriate he could be. He shook his head and instead focused on his growling stomach, checking the time and setting Ian’s food in the microwave for when he got home. He ate and watched a few episodes of Planet Earth, trying and failing to keep his eyes open. When he woke up, he already knew Ian was home. He could sense it. His dirty plate was gone and the kitchen was clean. The tv was still on, playing a repeat from before. He got up and went to their bedroom to find his boyfriend because he missed him.

“What are you reading?” He asked upon seeing Ian spread out on the bed with a rather thick book.

Ian jumped, pushing the book under the covers. “Mickey, when did you wake up?”

Mickey came closer, trying to see what he was hiding. “Just now. When did you get home? What is that?”

Ian sat up and tried to block Mickey’s view, pulling him into a few kisses. “A while ago. Told you not to stay up, baby.”

Mickey felt a twinge of guilt, knowing he’d broken his promise, but he needed Ian to stop evading his questions. “What was that, Ian? What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Just a book, okay?”

Mickey was starting to feel angry. It wasn’t nothing. He hated Ian not telling him something. “Did Derrick give it to you?” He doesn’t know why he has to bring him up, but it’s been bugging him.

Ian raises his eyebrows. “What? No. I mean, not really. He’s part of it, though. How did you know that?”

Mickey sighs, giving up putting the pressure on Ian. He was tired and just wanted all of this to fix itself. “I know everything, remember?”

Ian ducked his head. “Yeah, I know. That’s why I did it. Derrick has been going to school for nursing, so I just wanted to…be like him, I guess.”

“I-I don’t understand…,” Mickey says, lifting Ian’s chin.

Ian shrugged. “I figured I could go to school like him…like you. Maybe if I wasn’t so stupid, I would’ve been able to surprise you.”

Mickey’s brain stutters a bit to process what Ian is saying. “How long has this been going on?”

“A few weeks? I was able to pay for two classes with all the money I’ve been making. Derrick’s been helping me study and stuff, but it’s…it’s too hard.” Ian finally shows him the rented textbook on information technology and systems with dog-eared pages and highlighter marks. Mickey takes it and it reminds him of one of his books from his college days.

“Ian, you’re not stupid. I don’t believe that and neither should you. You’re smart and you can do anything,” he says, kissing him on the lips.

Ian shakes his head. “I don’t even understand fully what it is you do. I’ve been trying so hard, but it just seems like I’ll never be anything but a dancer. Now I can’t even do that right.”

“What do you mean?”

Ian sighed. “It’s stupid…”

“C’mon, Ian, stop. What is it? Let me help, I’ll do anything.” Mickey hated seeing Ian sad. He wanted to make him feel better no matter what.

“Ever since I lost my lucky jockstrap, I haven’t been getting much tips. I didn’t give any dances tonight, and totally wasn’t on my game. I know they’re just underwear, but they’re special. They’re important to me,” Ian explained. “It’s dumb and I’m gonna fail these classes and who wants to go out with a deadbeat dummy?”

“I do,” Mickey said firmly, kissing Ian again. “And I’d do it again.”

Ian’s mouth lifted in a smile. “I was wearing them the night we got together.”

And then, as if Ian just saying the words were like a hammer, it hit Mickey. He thinks back to that night he’d had one too many whiskeys but was determined to speak to the angel on stage. He remembers seeing them peak out of the sequin shorts Ian had been wearing. He’d been so overwhelmed and surprised at Ian’s eager and willing response to him, that he couldn’t remember the details, but there they were in his mind and in his pocket. Guilt washed over him and he bowed his head in shame. He pulled the underwear from his pocket.

Ian’s eyebrows raised. “Where’d you find them?”

“I’m s-sorry, Ian,” Mickey said, handing them over, “I took them and…hid them from you.”

“Why, Mick?”

“I love them and I love them on you and I love you,” Mickey said all at once, then quietly, “but I didn’t want anyone else to have them…have you.”

A beat passed before Ian chuckled a little. He grabbed Mickey’s face and kissed him hard, inserting his tongue right in his mouth. Mickey hummed, placing his hand on Ian’s thigh. Ian deepened the kiss, pushing Mickey back on the bed. He pulled away enough to get a hand around Mickey’s neck, flexing his fingers just enough to apply light pressure. Mickey immediately swallowed hard, letting out a choked whimper. Ian was staring down at him, watching him with a look that said he wasn’t mad but was definitely going to punish him a bit. Mickey swallowed again just to feel the tightness in his throat that wasn’t actually dangerous, but reminded him enough of his childhood abuse to give him an erection.

Ian held up the jockstrap. “You want them?”

Mickey nodded then croaked out a “Yes, please, Ian.”

“Open your mouth,” Ian instructed and Mickey obeyed, accepting the fabric being stuff past his lips. “Good. Just ask me next time.” He patted Mickey’s full cheek and wiped a stray tear from his eye. He readjusted his hold on his lover’s neck, careful not to leave any bruising that might get noticed, then reached his other hand down inside Mickey’s pants. He grabbed his dick and began stroking it. “Look at me.”

Mickey nodded, unable to conjure up words regardless of his incapacity to properly speak. He swallowed again, feeling the fabric soaking with saliva and heavy on his tongue. He breathed through his nose and kept his eyes on his boyfriend. He ignored the dark spots floating in his periphery and the lack of adequate oxygen to his brain. It made his body like putty in Ian’s hand. He felt tears in his eyes.

“I’m sorry too, for not telling you about the classes. And for making you think that anyone had a chance at replacing you.” The whole time he spoke, he kept his hand moving up and down Mickey’s shaft. He massaged and pulled at his balls, then focused on the head and smeared the precum over it. “Will you help me study?”

“Mh..mmhm,” Mickey nodded vigorously, wanting to do anything to help his man get his confidence back and be happy again. He groaned deeply when Ian just smiled down at him, but it was cut off by the tightening fingers restricting his airway. The less he could breathe, the closer he got to coming, but the care and attention Ian was doing it with was what pushed him over. He shut his eyes, as his orgasm hit, sputtering and gasping for air at the very moment Ian let his neck go. The combination of pleasure and pain gave him a high not unlike the one he felt kissing Ian for the first time. Ian had removed the underwear from his mouth and was using it to clean up the mess he made, soiling them further. It made Mickey shiver to think about Ian wearing them again after this night.

“Thank you,” Ian said after a while, placing kisses on his face and neck. He gently kissed his dry lips, licking them as his thumb caressed his sore throat. “I love you.”

Mickey cleared his throat and swallowed, his voice ragged when he spoke. “I love you.”

They snuggled and Mickey listened as Ian told him about what he was learning, happy that Ian was the most interesting part of their life together.

Derrick kept his hands to himself and Ian only wore his lucky jockstrap around the apartment for Mickey. 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you're reading this, leave a comment on your favorite chapter of sugar daddy telling me why it's your favorite 
> 
> If you're not reading this that's kinda weird


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